Keeping Track of the Good
by HecateA
Summary: Harry is very selective about how he remembers the war and which public appearances he accepts—but this one he couldn't even think of declining. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: **Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings: **Grief

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**Stacked with: **MC4A; Shipping Wars; Hogwarts

**Individual Challenge(s): **Gryffindor MX (x4); Trio of Gold; Seeds; Times to Come; Old Shoes; Themes & Things A (Reflection); Themes & Things B (Loss); Themes & Things C (Soft Toy); Ethnic & Present; Tiny Terror; Rian-Russo Inversion; In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux

**Word Count: **2672

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_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley

**List (Prompt): **Summer Medium 1 (Writer/Artist)

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_**Hogwarts Submitting Info**_

**House: **Ravenclaw

**Assignment: **Assignment #1, Photography Extra Credit, Write about Colin Creevy and his interest in photography.

* * *

**Keeping Track of the Good **

Harry was focusing so hard on trying to get his cuffs buttoned that nothing could have broken his focus other than his son—and that's exactly who was propped up on Ginny's hip, babbling softly as she walked into the room.

"Hey," Harry said, dropping his sleeve.

Ginny passed over the baby.

"Somebody spat up on me," she explained hastily.

"Oh no," Harry sighed. He poked at the baby's nose. "Jamie, I assume this was you?"

"It's fine, it's fine," she said. "Better me than on himself since he's so sensitive about getting shoes on and off, nowadays. I'll change quickly, but we're okay for time."

"That's good," Harry said, backing up to sit on the bed. Jamie looked quite adorable all dressed up, and Harry stuck his tongue out to him. The baby's tongue flopped out of his mouth and Harry laughed and did it again—a rather good distraction.

Ginny, now wearing a navy blue dress that showed off her freckled shoulders, approached from the side and finished buttoning up his cuffs.

"Thank you," Harry said. She kissed his cheek and stalled as if she was going to say something before darting back to the closet and fishing out a pair of shoes.

Harry lay down, plopping the baby on his chest. Jamie contently chewed on his own hand and Harry couldn't help but smile, although the effort it took felt exhausting at the same time.

Ginny crashed next to him.

"Okay, so just to say the thing we're both avoiding saying…" she said. "We don't want to go."

Harry breathed out, somewhat relieved. "Correct."

"But we're going to go," Ginny double-checked.

"Well, you just got dressed."

"If that's the only thing holding you back, I will happily strip down right now," Ginny said.

"Don't tempt me," Harry said. He turned back to Jamie and ran his thumbs in circles over his tiny palms. He sighed. "We just… we need to go."

"_You _destroyed seven Horcruxes. You don't need to do anything," Ginny said—a reminder she'd given him more than once, and also offered to _The Daily Prophet _while holding up two middle fingers during one of their particularly persistent pursuits. He took her hand and kissed it.

"I do," Harry said. "It wouldn't be right if we… Let's go."

They managed to get up and out the door, Apparating to Hogsmeade. The village streets was were crawling with more Aurors and Ministry folk than usual, though all the lights of Hogsmeade were nothing in comparison to Hogwarts, shining in the distance. At least Madam Rosmerta would be turning a good profit from this evening, Harry told himself.

"I can take him," Ginny said, holding her arms out to the baby.

"That's okay," Harry said. "Where did Ron say we should meet them again?"

They found Ron and Hermione lurking by the Three Broomsticks, trying to fade into the shadows. Harry didn't even give up Jamie to his happy godparents, keeping him close. He knew that Hermione had been fretting about this for weeks and sure enough, when she looked him over, it was as if she was scanning him. She readjusted the shawl over her shoulders.

"He's sure," Ginny said. "Trust me, I haven't gotten anything out of him all day."

"It wouldn't be right not to go," Harry repeated. He looked to Ron, who nodded supportingly. He got it.

"Right, then," Ron said. "Let's go let them know we're here, and have a look."

They made their way to the Hogsmeade Art Gallery, a place Harry had never known to exist until they'd received their invitations despite Hermione's sighs and assurance that she had indeed tried to bring them there once upon a time. A path leading to the gallery had been set with a purple carpet and magical barriers holding back the crowd and the press that lined it. The little building itself had been draped in black drapes though its windows glowed with light and soft music spilled out. Posters announcing their newest exhibition hung too: _Five Years of Peace: Photographs of the Wizarding War. _Harry thought this might have been a liberal use of the word 'peace,' but he said nothing. Just readjusted Jamie in his arms and kissed his head.

"I think it's my turn to be the rude one, yeah?" Ron said about twelve seconds before their presence was noticed.

The assault of words—Harry Potter, Mrs. Granger, Mr Potter, Ron, Ronald, Ginny, Harry, Auror Potter, Mrs. Potter, Harry, Harry, Hermione, Mr Weasley—felt even more abrasive than usual. Harry felt Jamis stiffen up in his arms and covered his ears. Ron proceeded to shoo people away and steer them to the gallery as quickly and efficiently as years of practise, a distinct lack of patience, and maybe some Auror training allowed him.

They were welcomed in the gallery by someone who had very clearly been told not to get weird around them. They were offered flutes of champagne and programs printed on expensive paper. Harry shook his head no and looked around. The gallery was set up like a house with the upstairs staircase just before them. The room to the left was labeled _The First Wizarding War & the Early Order of the Phoenix. _To their right was _The Regime Ends: The Battle of Hogwarts. _Harry assumed that the rooms in the back would fill in the gaps of time between those two things. Otherwise, a small comfort was that the pre-opening had a very, very small guest list.

"The official opening is at 7:30," Hermione reported, scanning the program she'd taken. "Then there's a few speeches—the curator, McGonagall, Minister Shacklebolt…"

"You're not at work, you can call him Kingsley," Ron whispered.

Hermione swatted at him noncommittally. "...and then Denis Creevy is speaking."

Harry nodded and swallowed. James was playing with the front of his dress robes, and Harry was thankful that his son had tugged him back to reality.

"Okay," Ron said, looking around. "Where do we want to start..?"

They looked around.

"Someone think of something quick or someone who works here is going to come to try and help us and stick to us all night," Ginny said.

"Left," Hermione blurted. She waved to the pamphlet again. "The installations are all chronological… It's only logical, really."

"Let's skip through this first room, though," Harry said. He had no interest in seeing old photographs of Sirius and Remus and his parents and other long-dead witches and wizards, with possibly a baby picture of himself or of the destroyed house in Godric's Hollow. That wasn't why he had come, tonight.

"Alright," Ron said. "Sounds good."

Ginny looped her arm through his and grounded him more as they sped through the first room. Jamie made some interesting and surprisingly complex gurgling sounds as they walked past (sure enough) pictures of his parents holding a baby that quite looked like the one Harry was holding. Harry tried not to think too much of the resemblance less it lead to some old worries flaring up, and then they were in the second room: _The Second Wizarding War Begins. _

Harry looked around and recognized that this was what they'd come here for: to see these works. He recognized a much younger version of himself wearing various versions of Hogwarts' Triwizard Tournament. There were pictures of all the champions out by the Black Lake, pictures of celebration parties in the Gryffindor Common Room, a photo of Harry and that screeching golden egg, close-up photos of the small dragon replica he'd gotten in the First Task…

The memory of Colin asking if he could borrow the dragon hit Harry like a bag of bricks and he felt his stomach drop dramatically. He hadn't thought much of it at the time—it was just one of those things that Colin asked for that Harry could make him so happy by doing for him... Seeing the photo of it now made sense.

Harry looked around the room for a sign, and found the very first one by the door. A picture of a tiny Colin Creevy standing on Platform 9 ¾ waved at him next to the words:

"_Colin Joel Creevy was born on April 24 1981 in London, England. The son of journalists, his interest in photography began when he was quite young. It only intensified once he began attending Hogwarts and discovered how to develop his own film magically. Creevy captured life inside the castle in the intimate and unexpected ways only attainable not only by an insider, but by someone infused by curiosity and a genuine love of life. _

_These photographs were taken by Colin in his third year of study, when the infamous 1994 Triwizard Tournament was ongoing. Harry Potter, a student in Colin's house to whom he looked up, was made to compete in the Tournament and would return from the Third Task announcing that the Dark Wizard Lord Voldemort had returned." _

Harry nodded and looked around. He didn't know who had written the text accompanying the photos throughout the gallery, but this rang true.

There was a picture of he and Cedric holding up a Hogwarts' banner that he had never seen before, another picture of Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur sneaking what appeared to be Firewhisky in a tent after one of the tasks… oh, Harry would have to bring _that _one up next time Teddy and Victoire had a playdate.

There was another picture of Cedric with another sign under it, but Harry didn't feel like reading it. He didn't need to be reminded of it or of what Cedric's death had done and meant.

James dropped the stuffed Snitch that Ginny had given him to play with, which gave Harry a great excuse to stop walking and pick it up. He dusted the toy off on his robes before passing it back to Jamie who immediately proceeded to stuff one of the wings into his mouth.

"How's that taste?" Harry said, blowing a raspberry on James' cheek. James' answer was something like "agamanabooboo," though it was muffled from the toy in his mouth so Harry couldn't be sure.

There were two rooms coming up: one was _The First Year: Return of the Order of the Phoenix. _The other had been labeled _Resistance at Hogwarts: Dumbledore's Army. _He noticed his friends waiting for him before proceeding, and Harry nudged his head towards the room dedicated to the D.A. That was the room that would show him the most of Colin's world, and ultimately paying tribute to that was what had convinced Harry to come tonight. It was what had made this event special compared to the hundreds of other ways and occasions that the war was dangled in front of him like a carrot by people who wanted him to bite, to talk, to scream, to cry if they were lucky.

This time, as they walked in, they were greeted by a picture of a 14-year-old Colin wearing his school robes. Harry skimmed through the sign underneath, but it didn't tell him anything that he did not know about Colin, or the D.A. and its secrecy.

This was, however, the room where they found the bulk of the pre-opening guests: nearly all of them D.A. members. Seamus and Dean were walking hand-in-hand, looking over some photo with fond smiles. Cho was showing her partner a group picture Harry had asked Colin to take around Christmas Time, and was pointing out the individual students in the frame. Luna was looking at something with her head tilted, presumably so that she could see it upside-down.

Neville was the first to notice them and come to chat. He happily shook hands with them and happily answered questions about the state of the Hogwarts greenhouses which, unfortunately, did not burn as much time as Harry would have liked before they just _had _to discuss the room they were in and why.

"I wonder if Colin expected anything like this," Neville said, looking around. "When he was taking all those photos, I mean…"

"Like, did he know that one day they'd be hung up as art or that they'd memorialize so much?" Ron asked.

Harry's stomach churned when he realised that his friend's eyes were fixed on a picture of Fred and George making him levitate across the Room of Requirement.

"Probably not," Ginny said, pensively. "He just really, really liked taking all these pictures. Sometimes he would annoy the others in our year, and all he said was that he didn't want to forget anything and he didn't want anything to get forgotten."

"Mission accomplished," Ron said, looking back to them. "Hermione, look, he got a picture of that time I disarmed you during practise!"

"That's not what that is," Hermione scoffed, looking in the direction he was pointing to. Still, they split off to go examine the evidence in greater detail. Luna called for Neville soon after, leaving them alone.

Ginny took his hand.

"Are you doing alright?"

"Yes," Harry promised.

"Did you want me to take the baby?"

"No," he said.

"Would you be alright if you weren't holding him quite so tightly?" Ginny asked.

To that Harry had no answer. He just looked around again.

"I think… I think we've all kind of learned that grief doesn't necessarily go away, but that it can quiet itself and sink to the bottom and sit quietly, like the snow in a snowglobe," Harry said.

Ginny nodded. They had talked about this before, at length, when they'd had to decide if they were going to be okay or not.

"But Colin is one of those that always just…" Harry shook his head. "He was just a kid."

"We were all just kids," Ginny reminded him.

"I know but he felt like a kid more, somehow," Harry said. "He just really loved the world. I mean, he had to. Look at everything that he did to keep little pieces of it around. That somehow makes what happened to him worst."

Ginny nodded along and then took his hand.

"Maybe another way of thinking about it is that Colin was watching the world pretty closely," Ginny said. "He was watching _you _pretty closely, if anything. And so he knew how bad it was, and thought that it was really important to keep track of the times when the world was good to keep these silver linings around."

Ginny looked around at the pictures of the D.A. again.

"This," she said pointedly, "was good. This was empowering and it gave us power and dignity and a way to cope with something awful. And it probably saved all of our lives later, when we had to fight and survive. Look at them, Harry… these aren't war photos, like the ones that people took for the Order of the Phoenix. This room is different."

And sure enough when Harry did look around the room again, he saw a surprising amount of light in the pictures. In at least half of them, there was somebody laughing or smiling or being ridiculous and goofing off for the camera. There was a picture with only Harry in it hung up, and it didn't make him cringe when he saw it like many other pictures of himself did. He was pulling up his sleeves and slowly turning around the room to look around, and when he saw the camera he stopped and smiled awkwardly to Colin, waving once before going back to his rounds.

"You're right," Harry said quietly. He turned to look at Jamie again, who had properly slobbered up one of the snitch's wings and was now working on the other. "Jamie, I think it's time to give mummy a turn with you, yes?"

"Yes!" Ginny said with a smile as he passed the baby along. She kissed Jamie's forehead before looking up to Harry again, and Harry smiled. Colin had always been good at framing his pictures to put the people in focus and make them shine.

Harry could do that too.


End file.
